


Brighter Than Before

by thecivilunrest



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Cosplay, F/M, First Time, Friends to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-14
Updated: 2013-07-27
Packaged: 2017-12-14 22:43:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/842203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecivilunrest/pseuds/thecivilunrest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles hates group projects on principle. </p><p>Or the one where there are no werewolves in Beacon Hills but Stiles still ends up being the Batman to Erica's Catwoman.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [moriuh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/moriuh/gifts).



> For Mori, who basically is the whole reason that this exists. She listened to me when I whined and cried about how I couldn't write, and she helped inspire this fic, so thank her for it. Basically this is only part one out of (I think) only two parts. I'll try to post the next part ASAP, I promise.

Stiles hates group projects on principal. He doesn't hate the 'project' part so much as he just hates the 'group.' He hates how, just because he's smart, people expect him to do the whole thing, like he has no life and is able to sit at home and work while they went out and party, or whatever.

(He actually doesn't have a life, outside of lacrosse practice, but it's not like they knew that.)

Stiles doesn't actually have to deal with this often, since most of the time he manages to snag Scott as his partner. Scott doesn't really contribute much to the idea, but he's always good for researching and getting books from the library, as well as cutting and pasting.

As is his luck, though, he gets stuck with Mr. Johnson's history class, who everyone knows eventually assigns a group project for the year, even if it might take him a while. It takes him a month to decide what they're going to be focusing on.

"The group project this year is going to be focused on the Civil War. You can choose what aspect of the War Between the States that you want to focus on, but it must be significant and _on topic_ ," Mr. Johnson seems to look straight at Stiles here, so teachers must talk. "I'm going to assign them with alphabetical order," cue the groans, which he might or might not have joined in with, "and so you have today to plan with your partner. We'll have other days to work on this in class, but not for the rest of the week."

Johnson starts listing off partners, but Stiles doesn't listen until the end, since he's an S and has been used to being at the bottom of the hierarchy that is the alphabet. "Erica Reyes and Stiles Stilinski," he calls out, and Stiles begins to look around for his partner.

He's spoken to Erica a few times, once when they were at the hospital waiting room together and a few times in junior high, but not since then. She looks more or less the same, though. No make-up, sweatshirt, hair that looks like it needs to be combed. He has no idea if she's smart or not, which sucks, but he can handle this. Hopefully she knows where the library even _is_.

"So, do you have any ideas at all?" he asks when she sits in the desk across from him.

Erica says something, but she says it so softly that he can't hear. He's going to need a hearing aid just to get through this. _Great_. "What was that?"

"I said," Erica repeats herself, her volume increasing to almost normal levels, "that I'm not helping on any project that has to do with penis."

"What?" Stiles can't help but asking repeat himself because what. He's laughing though, because if the whole year with her is going to be like this it might not all be as terrible as he worried that it was going to be.

She smiles at him, in a way that's almost too sharp, and says "I heard what you wrote about for our first Econ paper."

Oh God. He just sighs, though, like this is going to be a hardship that he's not going to be able to bear. He might have thought that before, but not now. Not necessarily. "Fine, no penises. I won't even draw hidden ones on our poster board for the observant to notice. We'll be completely phallic free."

"Well, as long as we understand each other," Erica says, still smiling and for a heartbeat he can't help but notice how pretty she is (not the Lydia Martin type of pretty—the kind that's glossed and polished—but still pretty) before that moment is gone.

.

Scott has met a girl. Not just any girl, though. According to Scott, Allison is beautiful and perfect and when she smiles an angel gets its wings. When Scott points her out in the hallway, though, she is also-

"Standing right next to Lydia Martin. Man, you don't have a chance."

"You don't know that. You _can't_ know that. She borrowed a pen from me. It has to mean something."

"Yeah, sure it does," Stiles agrees. "In a John Hughes movie, maybe."

Scott huffs but doesn't deny it. "I'm going to ask her out on a date."

"Sure you are. Maybe I'll ask Lydia out, and then we can both get rejected at the same time."

But Scott has this look on his face, and Stiles knows that look. It's the same look that he used to get whenever Stiles dared him to do that thing in sixth grade and he actually did it, and the one he used to use right before he got grounded. It's his stubborn look, and Stiles has a bad feeling about this.

"I'm going to do it. I am."

"Then I hope you get some more confidence, or at least more pens."

Stiles is still shaking his head when he walks into his study hall. Mrs. Anderson is face first in her solitaire game, just like she was when Stiles had her last year for study hall, and doesn't bother to look up when he's late.

He doesn't know where to sit, and sitting somewhere decent in study hall can mean life or death. Mrs. Anderson loves her seating charts. Last year Stiles had to sit next to some guy who picked his nose, and had been stuck there for the rest of the year.

Erica's the only person that he recognizes, and unless he missed something in history class she doesn't pick her nose, so he slides into the chair next to her, where she's sitting in the back corner of the room by the windows. For a moment it's like she's glowing, but then a cloud moves over the sun and it's gone.

She's reading a graphic novel and when he sees what it is he snorts. "Let me guess, Stephanie Brown is your favorite Batgirl?"

Erica looks up and smiles. "And Robin."

"Stephanie Brown was not a Robin."

"How can you even say that?"

"Because it's true, _duh_."

They spend the rest of the period debating Stephanie Brown. He's doing it mostly because it's something to talk about, and even though he wasn't sure about her when they got assigned to work on the history project together, he decides he actually likes her.

Just as he predicted Mrs. Anderson hugs her seating chart while assigning seats, and Stiles is seated right next to Erica for the rest of the year, which is nowhere near a problem.

.

"I asked Allison out," Scott tells him after lacrosse practice.

"Really?" Stiles asks, raising and eyebrow. Because really.

"No, but I asked her if she'd study English with me and she said yes."

"That's close enough," Stiles tells him, and is about to say something totally hilarious when he sees Erica out of the corner of his eye. "Speaking of studying together... hey Erica!"

She turns around and looks behind her, like she's shocked that Stiles is talking to her, or something.

"Yeah?" she asks.

"Did you get those books from the library?"

"Yeah, I did. Do you want them now?"

"Nah. We should set up a day to study together, though."

The nervous expression melts off Erica's face as she grins, tentatively. "Okay," she says before walking to catch up with Isaac Lahey, who she was clearly talking too before Stiles got her attention. When she gets to Isaac he elbows her lightly and Erica shakes her head.

Scott looks between them and asks, "Was that...?"

"Erica Reyes? Yeah." Scott raises his eyebrows. "What?"

Scott just shakes his head. "Nothing. Assassin's Creed after school?"

"Duh. Just try not to cry too hard when I beat you, again."

.

No one will ever be friends with Stiles the way that Scott is friends with Stiles. The two of them—they're on the same wavelength, totally in sync. Stiles can tell what Scott is going to say before he says it, and vice versa.

A best friend is a nice thing to have, in the tumultuous seas called high school, and Stiles is glad that he has Scott 100% on his side.

But Erica, slowly, becomes his friend too. It's weird that he's never really noticed her before, because while they disagree on most things comics, they both agree that the Batfam is the best and that DC totally kicks Marvel's ass. (Though they totally agree that the Avengers was one of the best comic book movies ever made.)

It's nice, having someone other than Scott and their usual sphere of friends to talk to. A lot of people don't like Stiles, and he gets it, really. But Erica never seems to mind whenever he talks and gets stuck on one thing before spinning a tangent on something totally unrelated the next.

In the end, he decides he's glad that they were partnered together.

.

When Allison comes to sit at Scott and Stiles's table, it's not a big thing. She and Scott are dating, and Allison's nice enough, and it's not a big deal.

But when Lydia, flanked by Jackson and Danny, come and sit as well Stiles could not be more surprised if Lydia had taken off all her clothes and decided to take a run through the woods naked. She doesn't sit by him, but Danny does, and besides she's close enough. If he had more guts and a lesser fear of death and the great unknown, he could touch her.

"Scram," Jackson tells an unsuspecting freshman, who had been looking appreciatively at Lydia, and the kid bolts like he's being chased.

Stiles tries to send Scott a _what the hell is going on?!_ look but either Scott can't read his mind for once or he's just as confused as Stiles is.

"So, where are we going tomorrow night?" Lydia asks Allison, putting a carrot stick into her mouth. "You said you and Scott were hanging out tomorrow, right?"

Eyebrows furrowed, Allison looks at Scott and says, "We were thinking about what we were going to do, we're not exactly sure yet..."

"Well, I'm not staying at home watching lacrosse videos again, so if the four of us are going to do something, we're going to do something fun," Lydia decides, like she's automatically in charge. She probably is.

"Six," Scott shoots out. "Six of us. Stiles is bringing someone too, right Stiles?"

Stiles is about to open his mouth and tell Scott no, because watching lacrosse videos sounds more fun than having to hang out with _Jackson_ , but then Scott cues the puppy dog eyes. Even though he'd never admit it, he can't say no to those, especially because Scott's so earnest about it.

"Uh, sure. I guess." He kicks Scott under the table, and Scott winces, but otherwise no one notices.

"Sounds fun," Allison says to Lydia. "I mean that sounds fun, right?"

"You know what else sounds fun?" Jackson asks. "Stabbing myself in the face with this fork."

"Who are you bringing?" Lydia demands, ignoring her boyfriend.

"I'm not exactly sure yet, I'll have to look at all my options." Meaning there are none and Stiles is going nowhere fast with this. Scott evidently realizes this, because as he is apt to down, he swoops down and saves the day.

"What about that Erica girl? You guys have that history project, right?"

"Sure." Stiles shrugs. "But we'd just be going as friends," he adds, mostly for Lydia's benefit. She doesn't react.

Lydia takes a moment to process this before nodding and turning to Jackson. "What about bowling? You love to bowl."

"Yeah, with people that can actually play," Jackson sneers, and okay, Stiles's hate boner for this kid is completely justified.

"How do you know we can't play?" Allison asks. "You can bowl, right?" she asks Stiles and Scott. Stiles nods noncommittally, because he can, sort of. He's better at Scott at least, even though that doesn't mean much.

"I guess?" Scott answers.

"You guess? Or you can," Jackson asks.

"I can," Scott shoots back, evidently as done as Stiles with Jackson's shit. "In fact, I'm a great bowler."

.

"You're a _terrible_ bowler," Stiles reminds Scott, who's looking distressed.

"I _know_ , that was so stupid."

"And then Allison kept saying hang out, which is even worse because you don't 'hang out' with hot girls, that's just _terrible _."__

__"I _know._ "_ _

__"It was like a car crash, a bloody one that closes down two lanes of traffic, and you just dragged me into the middle of it. Hey, thanks for that by the way, because who knows if Erica's even going to want to go. And if she doesn't, then I'm going to be this big awkward fifth wheel because you _had_ to get me involved."_ _

__Scott looks like he's about to let out another _I know_ moan, but instead he just nods at Erica. "Look, there she is, why don't you just go ask her now. Please? I'll owe you."_ _

__"You already owe me until the end of time. Remember sixth grade?"_ _

__"Just go ask her," Scott says, because he hates being reminded of sixth grade. Especially because all of that was his fault and he knows it._ _

__Erica's at her locker, gathering up her books, when she turns around and sees Stiles. She smiles at him, and he takes that as a good sign that this isn't going to be _completely_ terrible. He likes her, at any rate, at least enough to _hang out_. He might not like her enough to have this be a triple date in the most basic sense of the term, but it's not her fault that she's not Lydia Martin._ _

__"So, a bunch of us were hanging out tomorrow night at the bowling alley, and I was wondering if you wanted to come and help make it an even number? It'll be more fun in teams."_ _

__There's a part of him that's hoping that she'll say no so that he can bail out, but there's a bigger part of him—a surprising part—that's also hoping that Erica will say yes too. It would be fun to see Erica outside of school, and it's not like it's a real date or anything. For them it'd be strictly friends only._ _

__Erica clutches her books to her chest, and then she smiles at him again. Her eyes are bright and she looks genuinely happy to be asked. "I'll have to double check with my parents, but I'm pretty sure that I can," she tells him._ _

__"Great, just text me, and I'll pick you up at six."_ _

__He starts to walk away, but Erica stops him. "Hey, thanks for asking me," she says. Her eyes are still glowing and that makes Stiles's stomach drop because he's never really thought about it, but Erica doesn't actually have that many friends. She's known mostly for her epilepsy. That was even how Stiles thought about her, before he got to know her better. The thought is a sick, heavy thing in the pit of his stomach, but he ignores it._ _

__"It's going to be fun."_ _

__He's surprised by how much he means it._ _

__._ _

__Stiles explains everything on the way to the bowling alley, and when Erica laughs he finds himself laughing with her._ _

__"So on a scale of one to ten, how terrible of a bowler is Scott?" she asks, looking at him across the jeep._ _

__"He's in the negatives, there's really no comparison," he says. "I just hope that Jackson doesn't rub it in too hard when he kicks Scott's ass."_ _

__"Jackson's a douche. You can't count on him to be a decent person."_ _

__" _Thank you_. I've been saying this since kindergarten when first grader Jackson pushed me into the sandbox, but does anyone listen to me? No. The answer's always no."_ _

__"Hopefully he'll play nice for a couple of hours and then we can go home and pretend we didn't willingly hang out with him."_ _

__Stiles is still laughing when they get out of the jeep, but his good humor is ruined when he sees Lydia and Jackson sucking face. Great. Exactly what he wants to see when he wakes up in the morning._ _

__Erica glances at him and whispers, "It's like a D horror movie, isn't it? They're too perfect, it's weird."_ _

__Scott looks completely nervous, as he should, but he smiles when he sees Stiles and Erica walk up with their shoes in hand. "Jackson and Lydia are out for blood," he tells them. "But you've got this, right?"_ _

__"Probably better than you," Stiles tells him, and Scott punches him in the arm._ _

__They decide to play for ten rounds, and in teams. Lydia goes first, and Jackson helps her, guiding her hand like she's four years old and playing for the first time. It makes Stiles's stomach churn, especially when she says, "I'm so bad at this," but he chooses not to comment. He notices Erica's smirk, but he doesn't say anything about that either._ _

__When it's Allison's turn, Erica leans over to him and whispers, "You know she could totally do that by herself if she wanted to."_ _

__"Duh," Stiles replies, fairly irritated the way he always is when Lydia pretends to be stupid. He knows that she's so much more than she chooses to act like she is._ _

__"Well, since Lydia's purposely sucking and Scott just actually sucks, why don't we kick all of their asses just because we can? I'm actually really good at bowling."_ _

__"Yeah?"_ _

__"Yeah."_ _

__Erica grabs a red ball and bowls a perfect strike. "All right, nice," Stiles tells her, and holds up a hand. "You're not going to leave me hanging, are you?" he asks when Erica doesn't seem to want to play along, but she rolls her eyes and slaps his hand anyway._ _

__He glances at Lydia and her eyes are narrowed, but she cheers for Jackson just the same when he bowls a strike too._ _

__"You're up, McCall," Jackson says, smirking as he sits down._ _

__"You can do it, Scott," Allison assures him. This doesn't help, because Scott gets a gutter ball first thing, which cracks Jackson up. Stiles puts his face in his hands because he remembers the words I'm a great bowler and can't believe that this is his best friend._ _

__"Jackson, mind shutting up?" Allison asks, annoyed, before going over to Scott and whispering something in his ear which makes him perk up...but doesn't make him any better at bowling, even though this time he at least hits a few pins._ _

__"That could have gone better," Stiles informs Scott as he picks his ball, and Scott shrugs, going back down to sit next to Allison._ _

__Stiles remembers bowling from elementary birthday parties, and he and his dad went a few times. He's not as bad as Scott or Lydia, and he hits eight pins and finishes them up easily. Erica's holding her hand up when he comes to sit down and he high fives her back, because at least he doesn't leave people hanging._ _

__Out of everyone they're in the lead, and it's nice. Or at least until Lydia proves that she actually can play, which makes a muscle in Jackson's jaw twitch. Erica gives him a look that clearly says I told you so, and Stiles just shakes his head._ _

__Even though Allison's average at bowling, she and Scott have no chance, so eventually Stiles and Erica and Jackson and Lydia are neck in neck. The last round is all up to the girls, and Lydia gets a split, and is only able to hit one pin, leaving the other one up._ _

__"You can do this," Stiles whispers to Erica, who shrugs._ _

__"I know," she tells him before she gets a perfect strike._ _

__Stiles leaps out of his seat and cheers, because they beat Lydia and Jackson by five points, and it's not every day that he gets to beat Jackson at anything. Erica's smiling, but it gets wider when he hugs her in celebration._ _

__"I told you we'd kick their asses."_ _

__"I'm never going to doubt you again," Stiles promises, still high on Jackson's defeat._ _

__Jackson looks murderous, though, and he turns to Lydia with an ugly look on his perfect face. "We just lost to a girl who still pisses herself." He makes sure his words carry, and for one moment there's nothing but silence, and no one seems to know what to say._ _

__It's a horrible thing, watching the joy on Erica's face die slowly. The corners of her mouth start trembling and she extracts herself from Stiles's grip. She walks to the bathroom and doesn't look back._ _

__"Wow, you really are a piece of shit," he tells Jackson once the swinging door closes behind her._ _

__Allison's glaring at Jackson, and her face is actually terrifying. Stiles has never seen her anything but pleasant before, but he can clearly see her stabbing her best friend's boyfriend without feeling bad about it. Even Scott looks like he wants to punch Jackson, and Scott never looks like that. He can't read Lydia's face._ _

__Allison moves like she's going to follow Erica to the bathroom, but he stops her. "No, I'll go get her." He feels a weird sort of guilt, having brought her here and exposing her to Jackson. There was no way that Stiles could have realized just how deeply Jackson's crappiness went, but he still can't help but feel responsible anyway._ _

__Even hearing Lydia tear into Jackson as he walks away ("How could you even say that, it was just a stupid game." "God calm down, it was just a joke." "Well let me tell you, that was not funny.") doesn't give him a sense of satisfaction._ _

__He waits for a little while outside the door before Erica finally walks out, eyes red and phone in her hand. She looks surprised to see him standing there, waiting for her. "Are you going to take me home?" she asks._ _

__"Of course," Stiles tells her, and they don't go back to the others, instead walking straight to the jeep and not looking back._ _

__The ride is silent, and Erica just looks out the window or at the dashboard or fiddles with the sleeves of her sweatshirt, just anywhere not at him. He feels that same guilt again and wishes he knew what to say, but for once his mouth chooses to stay shut._ _

__When they reach her house Stiles finally has a clear enough idea of what he wants to say, but Erica beats him to the punch._ _

__"You didn't know something like that was going to happen, right?" Erica asks. "I mean, you just asked so suddenly and I've never hung out with any of them before and I just...you didn't know. Right?"_ _

__Stiles honestly feels offended that she even feels like she has to ask. Erica might not have been his first choice, but he never would have hung her out to dry in front of Jackson on purpose. "What? Erica, how would I, why would I? No, I didn't know, what kind of guy do you think I am? I mean, I should have guessed something bad was going to happen because Jackson, but I didn't bring you specifically so that he'd humiliate you like that. I would never do that."_ _

__"I'm sorry," she says, voice soft, just like the first day that he'd spoken to her in class. "I just had to ask. This whole thing has just been so surreal, you know? You wanting to be my friend and everything."_ _

__"I-" Stiles tries again, but he finds he doesn't have anything that he can say that would make this better._ _

__"No, it's fine. I'll see you in class," she says, and walks out of the jeep and slams the door lightly, and it's as if she'd never even been there in the first place._ _


	2. Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not a medical genius so I don't know if I'm correct about everything in this chapter, but I tried to be. Also this is going to be more than two parts, I'm just not sure how many now.

Stiles can't decide if it's a blessing or a curse when Johnson lets the pairs work on their projects.

Erica won't look at him, instead spending at least ten minutes digging through her backpack for a pen, and another ten retrieving the sources that she'd gotten from the library. He likes to think of himself as a patient guy, but really enough is enough.

"Hey, will you just chill out? Don't make this awkward, okay. Just...don't."

"Sorry," Erica whispers, still looking at her desk.

"So do you want to come by after school?"

"What?" Finally, she looks at him, and it eases a weight off Stiles's chest.

"Yeah, if you can you should come over, and we can work on this stuff more in depth. I bought a poster and I printed some pictures out the other night."

"I can swing by the library and get us some more book sources," Erica says after a pause. "And I'm pretty sure dad will be okay with it because it's for school so...okay." She smiles tentatively at him, and he smiles back.

Damage control, done.

.

Erica comes over at four, and they actually get something done, believe it or not. They work for a while, but there's only so much of looking at the disgusting conditions of Civil War prisons that can be taken before eventually everyone gives up.

She finds his Batman cosplay in between showing him all the new books that she got from the library, and raises her eyebrows as she holds it with her fingertips. "What's this?"

"Cosplay. Scott and I are going to Wondercon this year and I'm going to be Batman."

"What's Scott going to be?"

"Green Lantern, Kyle Rayner style I think is what he's decided."

"Cool. I went to a con last year with my dad, they're a lot of fun."

There's not a drop of awkwardness left by the time his dad texts him, and he's happy. He never wanted things to stay awkward between them.

"My dad's getting off early, so I'm probably going to start cooking dinner," Stiles tells Erica. "We can finish this up really fast, though."

"Oh, should I go?" Erica asks.

He thinks about it for a moment, before shaking his head. "Nah, you should stay and help. Can you cook?"

"Sort...of? I'm really good at cereal and at my house I'm the queen of the toaster and microwave, does that count?"

"Okay, you're on salad duty then." The amount of sodium in microwavable meals is atrocious, and Stiles doesn't allow them in the house anymore.

He texts Scott and tells him to pick up a loaf of garlic bread and to bring Allison, just because he wants for Erica to be okay with them too. There's no way that he can get in touch with Lydia without things getting weird, and he's not about to get Jackson involved, so he figures that's an issue for another day.

Erica's laughing at one of his stories when Scott and Allison get there, and while she raises her eyebrows she doesn't stop laughing, which Stiles counts as a win. "Need help with this?" Allison asks her, and Erica hands her a knife and half of the vegetables.

"Hey, thanks for the bread, I'll pay you back later," Stiles tells Scott.

"Are you making your ravioli?"

"Yeah."

"Marry me."

"You might not want to say that with your girlfriend so close, she'll kick my ass."

"She'll understand why I'll have to leave her eventually when she tastes it."

"Wow, try to keep it in your pants," Stiles laughs and punches Scott in the shoulder before putting the garlic bread in the oven.

By the time his dad gets home, pretty much everything is ready. He doesn't even seem phased that there are four teenagers at his house instead of the usual one. "Did you already make dinner?"

"Yep, enough pasta for five people. But eat your salad first."

"Allison and I made it ourselves, Sheriff," Erica points out, smiling in a way that will charm the pants off his dad. And hopefully make him eat his salad.

There's pointedly less grumbling than usual when the Sheriff makes his plate, which Stiles counts as a win. His dad starts telling stories about his early days on the force, ones that Scott and Stiles have heard a thousand times but the girls haven't, which makes the stories even funnier than they usually are.

Everyone finishes and Erica helps clear the table while Allison and Scott keep talking to his dad. "This was a lot of fun," she tells him.

"Life with the Stilinskis is always fun," he tells her, even though it's not necessarily true. She beams anyway, before going up to his room and getting her stuff so that he can take her home.

Allison corners him before she and Scott leave. "You know, if you and Erica ever want to hang out with me and Scott doing something fun, you guys totally should. It won't be weird like last night, promise."

"Well, Erica and I aren't really dating and I don't think that we'd want to be third and fourth wheels the whole time."

"Are you sure that you guys aren't dating?" Allison asks, and she looks adorably confused. It's a bit disconcerting.

"What? No. Why, did Erica say something?"

"No," Allison says slowly, watching him. "I guess I'm just surprised is all."

Before Stiles can ask her what she means by that Scott comes over and kisses her on the cheek. "Come on, I should get you home before your dad murders me."

"He wouldn't kill you on a school night," Allison tells him, before turning to Stiles again. "See you tomorrow, and thanks for inviting us. Tell Erica that I said bye and that I'll bring the stuff tomorrow. She'll know what I mean."

When Erica comes back down Stiles is still standing at the front door. "Allison and Scott said bye," he tells her. "And Allison said that she'll bring the ultra girly, no boys allowed clubhouse stuff tomorrow."

"Good. Can you take me home?" Erica asks.

"Sure."

He watches her go out to the driveway and wonders what Allison meant. Especially if Erica hadn't given her the wrong idea. But then he shakes his head and decides that it's not worth worrying about.

.

"You need to leave her alone," a voice next to his ear says the next day, causing Stiles to jump and almost drop his Economics book.

He turns to look and it's Isaac Lahey standing at the locker next to his, arms crossed over his chest, obviously trying to look intimidating. It might have worked if Isaac wasn't slouching.

"What?" Stiles asks, wondering what Isaac meant.

Isaac just looks at him before rolling his eyes. "Erica. You need to leave her alone. You keep leading her on, asking her to go bowling and study dates, but then you turn around and she's getting made fun of because she has epilepsy, which she can't help."

"Okay, you know what. That is _definitely_ not my fault, and if you're feeling so high and mighty about it go talk to Jackson Whittemore yourself, because that was all him."

"I'm just saying..." Isaac trailed off, because the thought of him talking to Jackson was laughable. "She's got the worst crush in the world on you." Stiles couldn't imagine what his face was doing, because Isaac snorts and goes, "Yeah _you_ Stiles. And you never even noticed her, just like you're not noticing her right now."

Isaac waves at someone over Stiles's shoulder, and it's Erica. "Hey, guys," she says, a question in her voice. She's looking at Isaac, eyebrows raised and mouth hard, but when she notices Stiles noticing this her face changes. "What's up?"

"Isaac here was just-" What? _Warning me away from you? Making sure I don't hurt you? Telling me that you've had a crush on me just like I had a crush on Lydia and he was right, I never even noticed?_

"I was just telling him to be careful, is all." He shrugs and moves off the locker to stand next to Erica, leaving Stiles to look at them both. As far as he knew, everyone had sort of assumed that Isaac and Erica had been a couple, but obviously that wasn't the truth.

"Oh, really?" Erica asks flatly, as though she had an idea of what Isaac had been telling Stiles. "Well that's nice. Isaac, can I talk to you, please? Now?" She tugs on the sleeve of Isaac's hoodie, pulling him after her. Stiles watches them go, and he can see Erica glaring at Isaac and telling him something harsh while Isaac just shrugs. Then they turn at a bend in the hallway and he can't see them anymore.

He finds Scott at lunch, picking at the three chicken fingers the cafeteria ladies had concocted with their blood, sweat, tears and some questionable chicken, and says, "Erica likes me."

Scott snorts, but when he sees Stiles looking at him he just shrugs. "Duh."

"How did you pick up on this before I did, honestly?"

"It's not hard to notice. Plus, Allison thinks so too."

Well that explains Allison's comments when he had them all over for dinner.

"Allison thinks what?" the girl in question asks, sliding next to her boyfriend. Lydia and Jackson and the rest of their court don't seem to be following her, which is nice considering the fact that Stiles really doesn't feel like having them come over here and grab the conversation out of his hands.

"Stiles is freaking out because he thinks that Erica likes him."

"I don't just think it, Isaac Lahey _told _me..."__

__"Well, if you guys aren't dating, you should be," Allison says, like that's that._ _

__But how can Stiles explain that things aren't that easy? For Scott and Allison, there wasn't anyone else but the other person, they just saw each other and _knew _and it was all over, boom, hole in one.___ _

____But Stiles has Lydia, who he has liked since the third grade. You don't just _get over_ something like that, no matter how much he's beginning to want to, because she started dating one of the biggest jerks in school and seems to honestly _like_ him. Like, _like_ him, like him. The way that Stiles likes Lydia and Erica evidently likes Stiles._ _ _ _

____He also has to think of their friendship, even though that might be shot to hell anyway just because of Erica's feelings. He honestly likes talking to Erica, and hanging out with her, and he wants to tell her everything that pops into his head. It's not exactly the same as it is with Scott, but that's because she's a girl. Right? Right?_ _ _ _

____Stiles honestly doesn't know anymore._ _ _ _

____._ _ _ _

____Though his talents definitely lie in other places than on the lacrosse field, Stiles generally likes gym class. Finstock isn't as hard in gym as he is during practices and the athletic period, and it's mandatory for everyone for the first two years, so Scott's in his class too, which makes it better._ _ _ _

____In the locker room Finstock tells everyone to shut up, and then informs them all that the girls are going to be joining them today, which causes a round of celebratory hand claps and fist bumps. Then he informs them _why_ the girls are coming, which is rock climbing._ _ _ _

____There's some groaning, but Stiles is pumped. This stuff is actually fun._ _ _ _

____Lydia and Allison are in this class, which makes it more than nice. But then Stiles sees Erica too, in the back of the group, and he walks over to her. "Ready for this?" he asks her, and Erica just gives him a brittle smile._ _ _ _

____"Nope," she tells him, sighing. "I hate gym. Coach Finstock is a weirdo." That makes him laugh, but he really can't deny it, so he doesn't try._ _ _ _

____Allison and Scott go third, and they're obviously flirting all the way up. Even Finstock is rolling their eyes, but nods thoughtfully when Allison pushes Scott all the way down to the floor._ _ _ _

____Erica looks positively green when Finstock calls her and Stiles up next, but Stiles just nudges her with his shoulder. "Come on, you've totally got this."_ _ _ _

____She just shakes her head, but puts herself in the harness anyway. Stiles just climbs, because it's better not to look down. When he's done Erica's not even half way up, and she looks like she's freaking out._ _ _ _

____"Coach," Allison says, "she's epileptic."_ _ _ _

____"Why does no one tell me these things?" Coach grumbles, and he tells Erica to let go and come down._ _ _ _

____Erica looks humiliated, and she totally ignores Stiles when he tries to tell her...something. He's not exactly sure what he wanted to tell her, but she's stalking off before he gets the chance._ _ _ _

____._ _ _ _

____Erica isn't in Study Hall, and no ones seems to know where she went. Stiles wonders if she was so embarrassed that she went home, but he decides to double check with Isaac anyway. Isaac's at the bike rack, where Scott's bike is missing, but he looks up when he sees Stiles. His face looks tight, mouth unhappy and downturn at the corners._ _ _ _

____"Hey, is Erica okay?"_ _ _ _

____"No," Isaac says. "She went back to the rock wall after everyone left, and she had a seizure climbing the wall and fell off it. She broke her arm, but they're worried about brain damage because she hit her head pretty hard when she fell."_ _ _ _

____"Why am I just hearing about this now?" Stiles demands, because he can't imagine people keeping this quiet once they found out._ _ _ _

____"The school doesn't want everyone to find out. Evidently the rock wall was an insurance liability."_ _ _ _

____"So how do _you_ know?"_ _ _ _

____Isaac's frown gets more pronounced. "Because I'm the one that found her." Then he turns away and hops on his bike, like he can't get away from the school fast enough._ _ _ _

____._ _ _ _

____After hearing about Erica, the first place that Stiles goes is the hospital. Ms. McCall is at the nurse's station in the lobby, so he makes a beeline for her._ _ _ _

____"Did a Erica Reyes come in today?" he asks her, making her look up from the paperwork she was reading._ _ _ _

____"Yes." Ms. McCall narrows her eyes. "Why?"_ _ _ _

____"I just want to know if she's all right. I heard about what happened. Rock wall, fall, seizure."_ _ _ _

____She studies him for a few more seconds before lowering her voice and telling him everything. "She's okay, lucid now even though the paramedics said that it's likely that she blacked out for a few moments before the seizure. Her arm's broken, though, and she fractured a rib. The doctors want to keep her overnight to make sure everything's all right, but then she's going to be released. She should be fine. Now leave before I lose my job."_ _ _ _

____"Yeah, totally," he tells her, backing off and going to sit in one of the lobby's chairs. A few other people are there, but none of them seem to notice him. He wonders if he could get away with staying at the hospital all night, since it doesn't seem like Erica's going to be allowed visitors any time soon._ _ _ _

____He wants to see her, though. Needs to._ _ _ _

____._ _ _ _

____In the end his dad makes the final decision for him, asking him to come home, so after three hours in the hospital waiting room he leaves._ _ _ _

____"What's wrong?" the sheriff asks when Stiles gets home, dropping his backpack off in the living room and coming to the kitchen. He starts eating a slice of the pizza his dad obviously picked up when he realized Stiles wasn't going to be there, even though he's not particularly hungry._ _ _ _

____"You remember Erica, the girl that came over the other night? She's in the hospital. She fell off the rock wall."_ _ _ _

____His dad winces, and Stiles realizes that he probably already knows. "Yeah we got a call about that today. I'm sorry, Stiles."_ _ _ _

____Stiles doesn't say anything, just pushes the unfinished slice of pizza away and goes up to his room. He decides to Google epilepsy, and spends the rest of the night reading about it._ _ _ _

____._ _ _ _

____When he finally wakes up at noon, Stiles texts Erica. _Are you ok?__ _ _ _

____It takes thirty minutes before she finally responds. _Yes.__ _ _ _

_____You up to seeing visitors?_ _ _ _ _

____That one takes a while for her to answer too, and Stiles bites his fingernails and bounces his foot up and down, staring at the phone while he waits for her answer._ _ _ _

_____Yeah, mom's gone so you can come. Can't stay long tho._ _ _ _ _

____Which, okay. Stiles can deal with that. His dad's gone to work by the time he finally comes downstairs, so Stiles just hops in the jeep and drive's to Erica's house. He's never actually been inside it, though he's taken Erica here plenty of times after working on the project and then to pick her up to go bowling, once._ _ _ _

____He knocks on the door, hoping that he'll even be let in, and someone that he assumes is Erica's dad opens the door. He looks at Stiles for a long moment before saying, "She's in her room."_ _ _ _

____Erica's room is covered in posters. There are actors and actresses—Orlando Bloom and Chris Evans and Lily Collins, among others—but also pictures of models and fashionable things that Stiles would never be able to name, despite having an interest in what Lydia Martin, most fashionable girl at school, was wearing on a daily basis._ _ _ _

____And that wasn't even covering the whole wall full of superheros and movie posters. She has the poster for The Dark Knight, but also for the Avengers. And she has pictures of Batman and Superman and Wonder Woman, and a few pictures that look like commissions of Stephanie Brown._ _ _ _

____He takes it all in for a minute, since every inch of wall is covered and it's a little overwhelming, before noticing Erica sitting in her bed. She looks so small, like the cast is the biggest part of her._ _ _ _

____She smiles when she seems him though, and it makes him angry._ _ _ _

____How could she be so stupid? If it wouldn't hurt her anymore, Stiles would shake her. She probably wasn't even wearing a harness when she climbed by herself, and obviously the mat that had been place below her hadn't done jack squat to help protect her._ _ _ _

____"Why?" he asks, suddenly wanting an explanation. He doesn't like looking at her like this, when she's overwhelmed with everything around her. "Why would you go in there by yourself? Did you want to die or something?"_ _ _ _

____"What? No. Jesus, Stiles. No I didn't want to die. I just..." Erica pauses, bites her lip. "I wanted to do it. Everyone else could, and stupid me, I freaked out. I wanted to prove that I'm strong too."_ _ _ _

____"Yeah, well, all you proved is that you're an idiot."_ _ _ _

____Erica's eyes harden. "Wow, are you really going to tell the sick and hurt girl that? Well thanks. I appreciate it."_ _ _ _

____They just stare at each other for a while, angry, before Stiles finally deflates. "Are you really okay?" he asks, sitting down on her bed with her. He wants to touch her—any part of her, her not broken arm, her leg, her shoulder—but he doesn't dare._ _ _ _

____"Yeah," she says finally, reaching out to grab Stiles's hand like she knows what he's thinking. Her hand's warm under his, and solid. He's glad. "I'm fine."_ _ _ _


	3. Part Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this one was hard because unlike for all the previous one I didn't have anything pre-written. But I finally have ironed out the details. This will be five chapters, officially.

Lydia looks just as perfect as always: Not a strawberry blonde hair out of place, lips perfectly glossed, outfit impeccable. She is, and always will be, the most beautiful girl in their class. At the ten, fifteen, twenty year reunions, things that Lydia wouldn’t be caught dead at when she has her P.h.D and model on her arm, that is how she’ll be remembered. 

But, for some reason, even all of that just doesn’t seem to do it for Stiles anymore. He wonders when this happened, when he stopped liking Lydia as much. There’s a part of him that will always be fond of her--third grade, okay, _third grade_ \--but it’s not all consuming and heart stopping anymore. 

“Dude, why are you staring at Lydia?” Scott asks behind his History book. Evidently he and Allison are in some sort of weird fight thing, and as such Allison is sitting with Lydia today. She appears to be also reading a book. Stiles didn’t exactly press for the details.

“I’m just trying to figure out what happened.”

“What happened to what? She looks fine.”

“Nothing’s wrong with _her_ ,” Stiles says, suddenly feeling frustrated. “Just with me. She doesn’t...” He had to stop and think about how to put this into words. It was harder than he thought. Stiles never has never had a problem with words. “It’s just, all of a sudden, my ten year plan doesn’t seem so perfect anymore. It’s not as exciting or awesome.”

“Isn’t this a good thing, though?” Scott looks around his history book, but when he sees that Allison is glancing around the cafeteria he ducks his head again. “I mean, does this mean that you’re over her? Finally?” 

“You don’t just _get over_ Lydia Martin, Scott. That goes against the very definition of the universe.” But it might have been true, for him. Getting over Lydia Martin was a scary thought for Stiles, really. She had been a security blanket more often than not, a familiar face in his late night jerk off sessions, someone that he could have feelings for without examining them too closely. 

Scott doesn’t have any retort for that though, instead just staring at a page about trench warfare. Stiles gets up, because the school’s fish sticks are very questionable. “Dude, just suck it up and go talk to her,” he advises, because this is beyond ridiculous, before walking to the trashcans to dump his tray.

As is his luck, that’s where Isaac and Erica are sitting too, blonde heads stuck together as the look at something in between them. Erica’s cast is still on her arm, bright purple, and she looks up as if she knows that he’s there. 

“Hey, Stiles,” she says, grinning at him. Beside her Isaac gives him a nod and little else. 

“Wow, you’re happy. Any particular reason?” For some reason his heart has started fluttering just from looking at Erica and how pleased she is, how bright her smile looks. For some reason his stomach feels sick just thinking about it, and he has the strangest urge to run. But he can’t--won’t--do that. 

Erica just looks at Isaac, giving him more a smirk than anything else, before answering. “No, nothing.”

“Great, well, I’m going to head to the library.” His voice sounds like he’s about to pass out, or something. How embarrassing. 

“Oh,” Erica says, frowning at him. “Do you want me to come too? I can help. I mean we don’t really need any more book sources for our project, but-”

“No, it’s fine, you don’t need to come!” he says, too fast, because even Isaac is looking at him funny. “Yeah, I’m totally going to be fine going to the library by myself. Because I know where it is.” He rubs the back of his neck, wondering how he’s going to get out of this situation. “Yeah, well, bye!”

He’s pretty sure that he hears Isaac say, “He’s totally going to go look at porn or something,” and Erica’s response of “Isaac!” before it sounds like she hits him with his book, but he doesn’t stop. He just keeps going. 

.

So clearly, Stiles finds that he only has two choices: he can pretend that he only has friendship feelings towards Erica. They stay on the path that they are walking now, and eventually he will get over Erica the same way that he got over Lydia. It might take seven years, but hey, he’s done it before, and Erica is totally worth seven years of torment. 

Or, he can ask Erica out on a date. They can date, and well...after that Stiles draws a blank. He doesn’t have a ten year plan with Erica, and he’s loath to draw one up. There’s just...no need for one, and for them the future’s sort of hazy at this point. 

He knows that Erica likes him. Isaac had confirmed that himself, and he was her best friend. “Worst crush in the world,” didn’t really leave any room for guessing. But that could have been then, not now. 

Even though then consisted of only three or so days. Really, they were teenagers, their feelings turned in the blink of an eye. Or so the media had led him to believe. 

Stiles still hadn’t decided what to do when he saw Erica in study hall. She was wearing a Batgirl t-shirt, and it was the tightest thing that he had ever seen her wear, and ripped jeans. Everything else was normal Erica though--the hair and the lack of make-up. There weren’t two girls that were more different than Erica and Lydia. And maybe, maybe that was part of the reason that he liked Erica now. 

“Hey,” she says, smiling at him like she had in the cafeteria. She isn’t looking at him like he’d somehow managed to get around the school’s firewalls and getting into porn in the library. That much is comforting. “Want to sign my cast?” 

She thrusts a sharpie into his face and he takes and uncaps it, hovering above the cast while he decided what to write. There was a depressing lack of signatures on the cast. Her dad had signed it, and so had Isaac, and evidently so had Boyd. But other than that it was empty, plenty of purple space left to write his message on.

Stiles finally decides what to write, and it doesn’t take long. He makes sure that his handwriting is neat, smooth and straight, so that she can read what he has to say clearly. He doesn’t want something as stupid as his bad handwriting to get in the way. 

Erica smiles when he hands her back the pen, but it fades slowly when she reads what he wrote. “Want to go on a date? Stiles,” she says aloud, as if she isn’t sure how the words taste in her mouth. 

“What did Isaac tell you, exactly?” she asks, eyes flashing up to his face. 

“Would you believe me if I told you that this has _absolutely nothing_ to do with Isaac Lahey? But it has everything to do with you?”

Erica just stares at him for a moment before the corners of her mouth tremble. “Are you asking me out? Really?” she manages to say, finally. 

“Why is that so hard for you to understand?” he asks. “Erica, you’re pretty and funny and you laugh at my jokes, even the ones that aren’t funny, and you aren’t doing that fake girl thing either. I’m asking you about because I like _you_.”

“What about Lydia?” she asks, but her eyes are shining, like she believes him. Stiles takes this as a good sign. 

“Lydia who?”

She still hesitates for a little bit, but she runs the fingers of her good hand over his now dried words before she decides. “Yes. I’ll definitely go out with you.” 

“Great,” he says, and he feels like fist pumping and doing a touchdown dance all at the same time, but there’s only so much movement that you can do in a desk without punching yourself in the face, so he decides to do nothing at all. He’ll save his happy dance for after school. “Pick you up Friday at eight?”

.

Scott totally catches him in the middle of his happy dance. “Is this about Erica?” he asks, leaning on Stiles’s doorway as he watches Stiles do the white boy version of happy twerking. Stiles immediately stops and looks at him over his shoulder. 

“How did you know about that?”

“You asked her in the middle of class, it’s all over school,” Scott answers. “I just came over here to say congrats, you finally sucked it up and did it.”

“Shut up, Scott, God,” Stiles says, looking under his bed for his other game charger. There’s only way to get away from this situation, and that’s with video games. He chunks it at Scott’s head but Scott ducks before it can hit him. “You know, if there was a Bechdel test for men we’d probably totally fail it.” 

Scott shrugs. “Probably, but that doesn’t change the fact that I can kick your ass at Halo.”

“You’re on,” he says, and they play until curfew. 

.

The next day Stiles meets Erica at her locker. She jumps a little when she slams it shut and sees him standing there, but recovers enough to smile at him. “What are you doing here?” 

“Well, I was planning on being chivalrous and carrying your books to first period since your arm is broken and all. But if you’re not into chivalry that’s fine too, I’ll just walk you to class. Which, admittedly, could still be as a chivalrous act, but we couldn’t pretend it’s not if you want.” 

“I have a backpack,” Erica reminds him, laughing. “But you can walk me to class if you want.” 

“Sounds fine with me,” Stiles says. He’s about to start going off into another tangent when he hears someone brush by Erica and whisper the word _freak_. Erica stiffens for a second, but then she keeps walking, keeping the same neutral expression on her face. 

Stiles decides that if she can ignore it, he can too, so he lets it go. It’s only when some girl that he doesn’t particularly know asks her, “Are you going to try to kill yourself today too?” that he opens his mouth to tell her to fuck off. 

Because, seriously, that shit isn’t cool. And it especially isn’t cool when it’s directed towards _Erica_. She wasn’t even trying to kill herself, she had told him that herself. 

“Don’t,” Erica hisses, grabbing his wrist with her good hand and dragging him past them. “I don’t need you to save me all the time, Stiles. I’ve been dealing with this for a long time, okay? I can handle it.”

“Yeah, but you shouldn’t _have_ to,” he protests. 

“But I _can_. I was doing just fine without you, I don’t need you to be all white knight and swoop in to save the day whenever I have a problem.” 

Stiles has a lot more to say about that, but the bell rang, which meant that the tardy bell was only two minutes away. “I have to go to class,” he mutters, and walks away, feeling hot and angry all over. 

.

Erica’s sitting in her usual place in history, which Stiles takes as a good sign as he slides into the seat next to her. He tries not to look at her, though, which is difficult. He keeps trying to sneak looks at her out of the corner of his eye.

“Sorry,” she says finally. “I know I keep everything more difficult than it has to be and I’m just really sorry. It’s just...Allison told me what you did at the bowling alley and I’m grateful for it, it’s just...I don’t want you to see me like some sort of project, or something.”

“You’re not a project to me. Erica, you’re you and if I want to punch someone in the face because they’re an asshole to you that doesn’t mean that I’m trying to save you. I know that you can take care of yourself. And, also, I most likely wouldn’t punch anyone in the face because they could probably take me. If I did punch them I’d probably be running too.”

In retrospect that speech doesn’t make a whole lot of sense, but Erica relaxes anyway. “Good,” she whispers as the bell rings and Johnson starts shuffling his papers together. “Are we still on for Friday then?”

“Duh,” he whispers back, because he’s not going to let something as stupid as this petty argument get in his way. 

.

The rest of the week seems to fly by and halt to a screeching halt at random intervals, as if it knows how badly Stiles is waiting for Friday. He walks Erica to class every day for the rest of the week, even though it means five minutes less sleep for him in the morning. 

“So,” Erica says, holding her books close to her chest at the end of the day. “See you tonight? Eight, right?” 

“Eight. See you then.” 

She smiles and turns away to walk to the buses before turning back and giving him a kiss on the cheek. Then she runs away to the bus, leaving the imprint of her mouth on his cheek. It burns a little, but in a good way. Stiles covers the place that she kissed with his hand. 

.

He’s in front of Erica’s house at eight o’ clock sharp, wearing a different plaid shirt than the one that he wore at school. It’s blue, and blue is totally classy, so it works. Her dad answers the door again, and just looks at him before letting him inside. 

“What are your intentions towards my daughter?” he asks when they’re both in the foyer, but he starts laughing when Stiles’s mouth starts gaping like a dying fish. “I’m sorry, I just always wanted to ask someone that.”

“Mark it off your bucket list, dad,” Erica says from down the hall, and she’s still rolling her eyes when she appears. She’s wearing a black dress and silver headband and he’s never seen her in anything that isn’t jeans and it’s...different. A good different. A great different. 

“Wow,” he says out loud. “You look great.”

“You think?” she asks, grinning at him. She knows exactly how great she looks, and how different. “Thanks.” 

“Get the hormones out of my house right now, I can’t take them,” Erica’s dad tells him, and Erica blows him a kiss before grabbing Stiles’s wrist and walking out the door.

“Sorry about him, but don’t worry. He’s more embarrassing bark than bite, I promise.”

“At least he’s not like Allison’s dad. He literally gave Scott a tour of their garage, which is full of guns and ammunition.”

“You’re _kidding_ ,” Erica shrieks. 

“Nope. It’s one-hundred percent true, Scott will tell you the story himself.” 

“Wow,” Erica breathes, shaking her head. 

Stiles really doesn’t want to talk about Scott and Allison all night, so he quickly segues the conversation. “So I hope you don’t mind if we do the completely traditional thing right now. I was thinking dinner? I don’t know, how does that sound to you?”

“Great,” Erica answers. “I think that’d be really great.” 

Stiles takes her to the diner that he goes to with his dad, because he’s comfortable there and for some reason it’s important to him that she likes it. None of the deputies are there, and neither is his dad-- _thank God_ \--and he counts that as a win. 

“Stiles,” Marie, the ancient waitress that seems to always be there when Stiles comes to the diner, says with menus in hand. “Is your dad with you-” she closes her mouth when she sees Erica behind him and quickly changes tactics. “Oh, never mind, you’ve got a hot date I see. Your dad said you might come here with one tonight but I didn’t think she’d be this pretty.” She gives Stiles a wink and he feels like putting his face into his hands. 

“Let’s just go sit over here,” he mumbles to Erica, who’s grinning at his embarrassment. 

They both order cokes and Erica leans over the table to say, “You told your dad, huh?”

“And apparently he told the whole world.” 

When Marie comes with their drinks and takes their order, Stiles orders his usual--the burger and curly fries. He finds himself listening closely when Marie asks Erica, “Regular or curly fries.”

“Oh, curly,” Erica answers, and Stiles realizes that he’d been holding his breath. 

“You’re officially perfect,” Stiles informs her when Marie walks away. 

“Curly over regular, _always_ ,” Erica says, but she looks down at the table and Stiles knows that she’s pleased. “So how many days are you and Scott going to Wondercon?”

“Just one day, we can only afford two nights at the hotel. It took us all summer to get that money.” He shrugs. “And speaking of which, have you read this week’s Batman?”

“Of course, you’re acting like I’m _some people_ who have to beg to borrow two months of issues because they were too lazy to go get the from the shop before they sold out.” 

“I resent that,” Stiles huffs, but Erica just laughs. 

It’s funny, how easy Stiles finds being with Erica is. It’s almost like being with Scott, but better, because he totally wants to kiss Erica (and would totally be okay with having sex with her too, if it came down to that) after they’re done talking. He doesn’t want to kiss Scott. 

They talk about anything and everything the rest of the night in the diner, and Stiles feels like he’s on drugs or something. For once, everything in his life is going perfectly, and it’s a beautiful thing. 

He drives Erica home slowly, obeying each and every traffic law that his dad drilled into his head whenever Stiles had been studying for his permit. He doesn’t want the night to end, but he doesn’t know how to extend it without seeming creepy and pretending he didn’t see her house. 

He stops in front of her house gently and for a moment the only sound in the jeep is the soft bars of the jazz song that’s playing out of the radio. “So, this was fun,” Erica says slowly, drawing out her words. 

“Yeah totally,” Stiles spits out quickly, the thickness in the air getting to him. He’s not sure what’s so thick in the air, but it’s _something_ , something that’s not quickly dissipated. 

They sit in silence for a couple more seconds before Erica asks, “Are you going to kiss me or what?”

“Yeah totally,” Stiles repeats, and then immediately wants to punch himself in the head. But then his mouth is occupied by Erica’s, and it’s warm and soft. 

This is definitely different than he expected his first kiss to be. For one thing there’s no lipgloss, like there would have been with Lydia. Instead it’s just lips on lips and it makes something warm and heavy settle in the bottom of his stomach. 

He can feel Erica start smiling on his mouth before she pulls away. “See you at school?” she asks as she opens the door of the jeep and gets out.

“Definitely,” he tells her as she closes the door. 

There will definitely be more white boy twerking when he gets home.


	4. Part Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, a few things:
> 
> 1) This chapter is literally the whole reason this fic was written. It was literally going to be "that fic where Stiles and Erica go to a con and lose their virginity" but somehow 10k of character development got in the way. I don't even know what happened.
> 
> 2) I moved the date of Wondercon up because of plot/convenience reasons, but it is generally held in March. It's not in this story, so you know, just go with it~
> 
> 3) Everyone that's engaging in sexual acts in this chapter is sixteen and up, so I don't think the underage warning is needed, but if it is tell me. 
> 
> 4) This was a pain in the ass to get out. Many thanks to my girl [Mori](http://junehovicks.tumblr.com) for putting up with me when I was moaning about it.

Stiles likes to think that he knows his best friend. He knows Scott’s brand of inhaler, his favorite food, what his hair looks like in the morning. (Ventolin, his mom’s chicken soup, fluffy.) 

He also knows what Scott looks like when he’s about to drop a bombshell. And that’s the expression that Scott is currently wearing. “Oh God, I don’t like that look. That that face and put it far away from me because I can already tell that I don’t need this in my life.”

“Stiles,” Scott says, and Stiles holds his breath. He can take this. “I can’t go with you to Wondercon.”

“ _What_? We’ve had this planned for months! We’ve had these tickets for months. Months.” 

“I know,” Scott says, and he looks like a puppy someone hit with a rolled up newspaper. Stiles would very much like to hit him with a rolled up newspaper right now. “And I’m so sorry dude, I suck.”

“Why can’t you go? Please tell me that this doesn’t have something to do with Allison-” He dares to take a look at Scott’s face and immediately wishes that he hadn’t. “Don’t tell me this has something to do with Allison.”

“Fine, I won’t tell you,” Scott says, and tries to walk away. 

“What happened to bros before beautiful women?” Stiles yells at him as he goes.

Scott stops at that and turns back around. “It’s her family, dude. Evidently they all go on these crazy hunting trips, and they’re going on one and it’s on the weekend of Wondercon. And Allison’s aunt is going to be there and I just want her family to like me.”

He looks so downtrodden that if this situation wasn’t so unfair and unjust Stiles would laugh. Allison’s parents--her dad especially--really does seem to hate Scott. It’s sort of beyond hilarious. 

Stiles is just grateful that Erica’s dad likes him. He’s only met her mom once--evidently her mom’s work schedule is crazy, which is why her dad runs his insurance company from home--and she’d just looked him up and down before patting his cheek and calling him cute in a saccharine voice and walking away. 

“What about your Kyle costume? And the money that you spent on the hotel room? Because we sure as hell can’t get that back.”

Scott shrugs. “This is kinda more important to me. You can find someone else to go with you, can’t you?”

“Uh, no. No I cannot. Which is why I asked you in the first place.” 

“I’m really sorry, dude.” Scott shrugs and looks sincere and Stiles forgives him. Mostly. 

.

“Who pissed in your Cheerios this morning?” Erica asks him in study hall. 

“Scott.”

“Really?”

“No,” Stiles sighs and runs a hand through his buzz cut. “It’s just. Remember how I told you that we were going to Wondercon together?”

“Yeah?” 

“Well he can’t go anymore. He’s going camping with Allison’s family instead.” Erica’s eyebrows shot up, but before she can say anything Stiles gets an idea. A very, very good idea. Why he hadn’t thought about this immediately he has no idea. “Hey Erica, do you want to go instead? Since my best friend abandoned me and everything?”

“You’re not nearly as good at puppy eyes as Scott. Clearly not everything can be learned through osmosis.” She laughs a little before stopping. “Oh, you’re serious, aren’t you?”

“Duh.”

“Well I’d have to ask my parents, and I don’t know...” her eyebrows furrow. “I don’t know how well that’d go over. Weren’t you two planning to spend the night?”

“We can say that we got two hotel rooms, or something.”

The prospect of having to go to Wondercon alone was not a thrilling one. He could imagine having to go through the convention center alone, waiting in line alone, doing everything alone and felt lonely just at the thought. He was a social person, he needs to have someone there with him that he already knows. 

“I’ll have to ask, but I think my dad will say yes.” She grins at him then, like she can barely contain her excitement, and Stiles grins back. 

He hopes this works. 

.

She calls him that night. “So, my mom was a tough sell. Really tough, like I figured she would be. But as soon as I said that we’d have _separate rooms_ ,” Erica says separate rooms as though someone’s listening and she wants to emphasize the fact, “he was all for it. In fact, he was so for it that he almost wanted to come with us-”

“Oh God,” Stiles says, thinking about what a disaster _that_ would be. He liked Mr. Reyes and everything, but the fact of the matter was there was still only one room. Erica’s dad was cool, but not that cool. 

“But I managed to talk him out of that one too. I’m coming, though. It’s been decided.”

“You’re a goddess.”

Erica snorts. “Thanks. So now I have to figure out what I’m going to do about a costume because you are _not_ going to be the only one that’s going to cosplay...”

“I’m sure whatever you’re going to do will be great,” he tells her.

“You’re going as Batman, right?” Erica asks.

“Yeah...”

“Oh, then I know exactly what I’m going to do. But I have to get started _now_ if I’m going to finish this in two weeks, so, talk to you later.” Then she hangs up. 

This is going to be _awesome_.

.

Erica won’t tell him what she’s going as, no matter how many times that he asks her. “Honestly, Stiles, you should have already figured this out,” she tells him one day in the hallway when he’s needling her. 

“How am I supposed to have figured it out if you won’t give me any hints and won’t show me your costume? All you told me is that you’re not wearing a wig because the character has had blonde hair some time in comics history. Which isn’t exactly a big help because there are about six hundred and seventy-two characters in the history of comics that have had blonde hair.”

“ _Think_ about it.” 

“I have thought about it.” 

Erica sighs. “You’re Stiles and I’m your girlfriend. You’re going as Batman. Who is Batman’s girlfriend the majority of the time, when he’s not screwing around with other women?”

She’s already walking away when everything finally clicks. 

“You wanna be Catwoman?” he shouts after her in the hallway. A few people turn around but most are used to him by now. “Then I’ll be your Batman.”

Erica turns around and smiles at him. 

.

For two weeks Stiles doesn’t see Erica outside of school because she’s too busy working on her costume. “I’m sorry,” she says one day after he asks her to get a coke after school. “But you’ve had months to work on your cosplay. I have two weeks. But after this we can hang out whenever, I promise.”

And he actually totally gets it. So for two weeks it’s all Scott-and-Stiles time (except when Scott is with Allison, but they don’t talk about that since Stiles is still a little sore from the whole Scott-ditched-him-for-Allison) all the time. 

Erica sends him picture of her progress though, and from the stores that she goes to when she can’t make a piece of her costume. The fact that she’s making everything by hand is honestly sort of mind blowing to Stiles, but it’s awesome too. 

She calls him when she’s finished, and it’s two days before they leave for Wondercon. “So are you going to send me a picture of you in the finished product?” Stiles asks her, and she laughs. 

“No, this is like a wedding dress. It’d be bad luck to show you before the day of.”

“Whatever you say. You’ve seen me in _my_ costume.”

“I know, I had to do some alterations on yours, _remember_?” 

“Best girlfriend in the world,” he tells her again, just like he had the day she’d come over and put the finishing touches on his suit as well. 

“I only did it because I wouldn’t want my Batman to be lame, but you’re welcome.” 

“Still, best girlfriend.”

He can hear her smile through the phone. “I know.”

.

“You’re positive that Erica has her own room?” Dad asks, for the millionth time, as he watches Stiles pack for the weekend. He doesn’t seem too convinced on this point, but he hasn’t looked too closely or done anything to stop it, so that’s a win.

“One hundred and ten percent.”

“It’s really lucky that she found a room in the same hotel as you only a couple of weeks in advance...” the Sheriff tries again.

“Isn’t it?” Stiles asks. Then he goes in for the kill. “Dad, do you really want to know?” 

“I think I’ve figured it out. Just...be safe, okay Stiles?” He walks out of the room and Stiles thinks that’s the end of it, before Dad comes back with a small box of condoms and places them in his bag. “Safety first,” he says before walking out of the room, and a part of Stiles withers up and dies. 

.

It’s a five hour drive to Wondercon, and they can’t leave until school is out, Erica’s mom’s orders. Stiles drives Erica to school that day and she put everything in the jeep so that they can leave as soon as possible. 

Her mom’s standing at the door when they leave, which Stiles finds kind of unsettling. But Erica doesn’t say anything, just gives her mom a half-hearted wave before they drive off completely. “Are you ready for this?” he asks her, and Erica smiles.

“Are you kidding me, I was born ready.”

School seems to last forever-- _forever_ \--but then the last bell of the day rings and Stiles can get the hell out of there. Erica is in front of the jeep already, talking to Allison and Scott, but she sighs in relief when Stiles is close enough. 

“Thank God you’re here, we can go now. Sucks to suck, Scott,” she says, laughing. 

Scott rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling too, and he and Allison both wave good-bye. 

“So you are absolutely sure that you know where you’re going,” Erica asks him, and Stiles rolls his eyes. 

“Duh, I can read a map. And there’s this great new thing called a GPS just in case that method doesn’t work. I have one of those in my phone.” 

“Just checking. My mom wanted to know because she’s worried that you’re going to kill me and throw my body out of the jeep.”

“I’d totally bury your body first.”

Erica snorts, face first into her phone. “I’m sure that will reassure her,” she says. “Let me tell her about how considerate you are right now.” 

Stiles wants to ask what the deal is about her mom, but he decides in the end not to pry. The drive is five hours long, and if Erica wants to open up to him about it, she will. Besides, he understands what it’s like to have a complicated relationship with parents; it’s not like he and Scott talk about Mr. McCall that much either. 

Thankfully the drive doesn’t feel like five hours. They talk and blast Stiles’s iPod and before long they’re in Anaheim and having to find parking for the hotel. 

“So, this is going to take some fast talking, but it should only take a sec. Stay in the car so that they don’t know that there’s more than one person staying?”

“This whole thing is very shady,” Erica says, laughing, “but sure.”

The hotel takes a lot of smooth talking and fast action, since Stiles is clearly not his dad and the reservations were made under the Sheriff’s name, but after talking at the person manning the desk into exhaustion he gets the keys. 

“Nice job,” Erica says as they sneak into the side of the hotel, carrying all of their stuff. Their room is on the fourth floor and the stairs are exhausting despite all of the suicides from lacrosse, and Stiles is relieved when they finally get there. 

What he’s not relieved about is the fact that there’s only one bed, even though Stiles had been pretty sure that he and Scott had reserved too. For a beat he and Erica stand in the doorway and stare at it, taking up at least half of the room and very white, before Erica shakes her head and takes a step forward. 

“I’m starving,” she says, as if she can shake off the awkward. “Let’s go to dinner. I’ll pay since you drove.” 

He almost, _almost_ , makes a joke about sexual favors, but he finds that he can’t do it with that bed staring them in the face. Awkward virgin, thy name is Stiles. 

Instead he slings his arm around Erica. “Let’s go then.”

.

They don’t get back to the hotel until two that morning, and when they do they’re stumbling in and laughing. They walked what felt like the entire city and talked about everything all night. They hadn’t been able to stop talking. 

But back in the room all of a sudden it’s quiet. Stiles thinks about the condoms that his dad put in his bag, the ones that he hadn’t bothered to take out before blurting, “I’m just going to sleep on the floor if that’s all right.” 

Erica frowns at him. “What? Don’t be stupid. The bed’s huge, it’s no big deal. I trust you not to take advantage of me when I’m sleeping, or whatever.” 

“That’s me, not advantage taker,” Stiles says, but the joke falls a little flat. 

Erica changes in the bathroom, coming out wearing a t-shirt and ratty sweatpants but it’s still somehow one of the sexiest things that he’s ever seen. He just hopes he doesn’t have a boner in the morning. 

“So,” she says when she’s staring at him. 

“So.”

“Big day tomorrow, I think we’d better get to sleep.” Erica leans across the bed and kisses him lightly on the mouth once before turning her back to him. 

.

The alarm that Erica set on her phone wakes them up that morning. Everything’s a little blurry around the edges and Stiles yawns into his arm. The first thing that he notices is that he does not--thank God--have a boner. 

The second is that Erica is yawning beside him, her hair the messiest that he’s ever seen it which is saying something. “You need to get the bathroom first. I’m going to take longer than you to get ready,” she informs him as though he hadn’t already figured that. “I’ll go get the free breakfast from the hotel. Do you want anything in particular?” 

“A muffin would be great, thanks,” he says and she nods, grabbing the hair tie she left on the side table and shuffling to the lobby without even changing. 

His costume isn’t hard to get into, especially not with the alterations that Erica made for him. Erica comes into the room, throws a muffin at him, and grabs the bag that she had specifically packed for her cosplay. 

He eats the entire muffin and watches two reruns of Buffy before he knocks on the door. “What are you doing in there?” 

“Stiles,” Erica’s voice comes out muffled by the door, “that is the last thing that you want to ask a woman when she’s getting changed. Now go wait patiently like a good boyfriend before I put this stiletto up your-”

“Nope, I’m good. Backing away now. You can take however long you want.” 

He’s halfway through another episode when Erica walks into the room, smiling. She’s pleased with herself and he doesn’t blame her _at all_. You couldn’t tell that she’d only had two weeks to make her costume just by looking at it. 

It’s a mix of Nolan’s Catwoman and the Catwoman from the comics. Her hair is free and blonde and in perfect ringlets, and her make-ups all eyeliner and red lipstick. The catsuit hugs every dip and curve in her body. Stiles is pretty sure that he’s never seen her in such revealing or tight clothes before. 

“What do you think?”

“You look gorgeous,” Stiles manages to choke out after a moment. 

Erica laughs and kisses his cheek, her lips thick with the wax of lipstick. “Come on, Batman, let’s blow this popsicle joint.” 

.

People want their picture. A _lot_ of people want their picture. Stiles isn’t sure why he’s surprised by that, but he is. Some just want the two of them, and Erica will put her lips next to Stiles’s cheek and pose. Some want to get in between them and act in character, and those are the most fun. 

A couple of guys just want pictures of Erica and try to make a move on her after, but she just laughs and grabs Stiles’s arm before kissing his cheek. “I’ve already got my Batman, I’m good.”

She reapplies her lipstick a lot that day. 

Erica buys a couple of commissions of Stephanie Brown and Catwoman, and Stiles buys some vintage Batman comics. They wait in line for a couple of panels, and spend time wandering around the convention center. 

In the end, Stiles is actually sort of glad that Scott couldn’t come. The very thought smacks of betrayal--even though it’s not, he and Scott are bros for life thank you very much--but it’s true. Scott might be a geek but he’s not as in depth as Stiles and Erica are. They would have had a great time, but this is somehow _better._

He tells her that after they decide to leave the con that night, eating burgers and curly fries. 

“I’m glad Scott couldn’t come too,” Erica says. “But don’t tell him I said that.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He chews on the end of his straw before saying. “So what do you want to do after this? Save some citizens? Fight the good fight on rooftops?”

Erica suddenly becomes very interested in the paper that her burger is wrapped in. She smooths out the wrinkles, one at a time, before saying, “Can’t we just go back to the room?” 

Stiles’s mouth goes dry. 

.

The movies and pornos have lied to him. There’s no intense making out in the elevator or down the hallway or even once they get into their room and shut the door. They didn’t touch the whole way out of the burger joint, instead walking stiffly side by side. Their fingers didn’t even brush the whole way here, even though they had held hands all last night. 

Stiles goes to get the condoms out of his bag and Erica doesn’t even look surprised from where she’s sitting from the foot of the bed. 

“So,” Stiles says, already sick of the awkwardness in the air and the silence. “How are we going to do this?”

They’ve made out before--of course--and gotten a little bit further than that. But not that much, definitely not _this_ much. He’d thought about it--he was sixteen years old, of course he had--but he’d never contemplated what it’d be like in reality. 

“The usual way I guess,” Erica says, whispering. She’s not looking at him, instead focusing on what her hands are doing with the white bedspread. “We get naked and then something goes in and something comes out.”

Stiles can’t help but laugh a little at that, and Erica looks up, her face slightly less nervous. She leans in to kiss him, then. She kisses him lightly at first, before leaning in again and again, each time the kiss getting deeper. 

He puts on hand in her hair and the other on her waist, not sure what else to do. Erica unzips her catsuit slowly, but surely. Her hands have stopped shaking, which Stiles counts as a win. 

He’s already hard just looking at her when they have to break away so Erica can shimmy out of her costume completely. She’s wearing a red lacy bra and matching underwear, which tells him that she was either trying to get in character or she planned this. 

He is one hundred percent okay with either as she leans in to kiss him again. Her skin is so soft under his hands that he doesn’t know what to do with himself, so he leans into it, her breasts against his costumed chests. 

“I can’t believe I have to undo your utility belt,” she says breathlessly, unbuckling every buckle before Stiles can unzip himself too. He’s thankful that he’d taken off his cowl a while ago, because otherwise this would be just too weird. 

“You can cross this one off your bucket list,” he says, and she laughs. Once he’s only in his boxers he leans in to kiss her again, and then gently pulls her to the bed. She’s eyeing his erection like she doesn’t know what to do with herself when he goes, “We don’t have to do anything you know. I’m totally cool with jerking off in the bathroom.”

“Don’t be stupid. Unless you don’t want to do it.” Her eyes search his face like they’re looking for something. 

“Um, I want to do it. Obviously.” 

“Okay then,” Erica says before kissing him again. Her hand slips from his chest, lower and lower, until her hand’s under his boxers and Stiles feels like he’s about to hyperventilate. He’s already leaking and he knows that she can feel it. “So, what do you want me to do?” 

“Just. Just, stroke, I guess? I don’t know how to describe it.” 

“Wow that was unhelpful,” Erica says, but she does it. Slowly at first, but then she becomes more sure. Stiles has to bite his lip to keep from moaning or coming or doing something equally embarrassing. 

“Here, let me,” Stiles says, pulling away from her and stepping out of his boxers, throwing them against the wall. Erica takes off her bra and underwear too and he just looks at her. He could come from this too.

He could just come from everything, apparently. 

They kiss again, but this time they lie horizontally on the bed. Stiles takes a deep breath before putting his hand between Erica’s legs. He’s watched plenty of videos about this--all in the name of research--but it’s nothing like he ever thought. She’s wet and hot. It takes a while but eventually he manages to touch something that she likes because she moans. Her moan is a soft and breathy thing, but it still makes him harder. 

“Put the condom on,” Erica commands him, her voice still a breathy whisper, but demanding. Stiles removes his hand and does what she asks while she breaths. Her chest heaves, and then every inch of their skin is touching each other. 

“This shouldn’t hurt-”

“Just do it,” Erica says, and she closes her eyes like she’s waiting for it. Stiles thrusts and almost dies right then from the heat and how tight she is. Erica’s biting her lip, looking up at him, but she nods and he thrusts again. 

He can only do it a couple more times before he comes. He makes a choked noise at the back of his throat as he does so--a hybrid sound of dying cat and slaughtered cow--but then he falls, his face in Erica’s neck. 

“Oh my God,” Stiles moans as the smoke clears. “I’m sorry that was so bad but you’re just so pretty and I couldn’t help it, it sort of just shot out of me. I swear I’ll watch Laci Green videos when I get home and try to make it better because I know that it sucked and I know that it was mostly because of me, but.” He a deep breath, trying to make sure what he was trying to say made sense.

“It’s okay,” Erica tells him rubbing his back soothingly. “I knew my first time was going to be awful. You’ll just have to make it up to me later, hmm?”

Stiles nods, his head still not completely clear after coming so hard. He wonders what you’d have to Google about going down on a girl to get the best results.


	5. Part Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finally done! I honestly can't believe it, haha. I just want to thank everyone that ever helped me with this story, who commented it or anything, because it is very much appreciated.

There's a part of Stiles, the part of him that had honestly believed that he was going to stay a virgin forever due to his inability to appear attractive to _either_ sex, that can hardly believe that this happened. He just had sex with Erica Reyes. If you had told him six months ago that this was going to happen, he would have laughed straight in your face.

Now, though, now it's nice. Erica's brought the blankets up to cover everything, but she looks beautiful, even with her hair all messed up and mascara dripping down her face. When she notices that he's looking at her she turns to him.

"I'm going to put on my PJ's now," she informs him, and walks to her suitcase. He watches her walk there before getting up to slip his boxers back on, and then gets on the bed again. He doesn't feel like getting his t-shirt.

Unsurprisingly, Erica looks just as good naked as she does in her ratty t-shirt and Batgirl shorts. In a way he's almost glad that she's not wearing something lacy and satin—he always imagined that this was what Lydia Martin wore to bed—because it feels less premeditated.

Though, he also muses, they are two sixteen year olds who are dating and sharing a hotel room. How spur of this moment could this be?

"Sooo," Stiles says, in an effort to wave the awkwardness out of the air. After she stopped patting his back the two of them had just stared at the ceiling, unsure of what to say. Stiles _definitely_ wasn't sure what to say, but now that there are layers between them and the other person's skin, the words flow easier.

"I'm tired," Erica cuts him off before he can continue. "Aren't you tired?"

 _Not really_ , he wants to say. _I want to talk about something, anything._ Even feelings, or whatever it is that girls want to talk about after sex. All girls except Erica, it seems like. She doesn't seem to want to talk at all, instead looking at him in an expectant way, like she wants him to agree with her.

"Uh, sure," Stiles clears his throat. "I guess."

"Okay then," Erica says, and she turns on her side, leaving her back to him. Even though she did the same thing last night, it seems more deliberate now, less her trying to get comfortable and more that she was trying to block him out. And this time, she didn't kiss him before going to sleep.

It takes hours before Stiles can sleep.

.

Erica's dressed and packed by the time Stiles wakes up. He yawns and Erica's head pops up from where she's reading one of the graphic novels that she brought. "Hey, you're up," she says. "Good, I'll go get breakfast while you're getting ready and then we can get on the road."

Before Stiles can blink, let alone form a response that isn't intelligible, she's practically skipping out the door, leaving him behind. He tries not to think that anything's weird about this, though. She had already told him that his parents were itching for her to get home, worried about her having a seizure so far from home and her doctors. They'd almost not let her come, but Mr. Reyes had finally won out, letting her come. It made sense that she'd want to get on the road as soon as she could.

He gets dressed and shoves everything—his costume, all the dirty clothes, everything that he got at Wondercon—into his big and considers that a job well done on the whole packing thing. Erica's suitcase and costume bag are sitting in a neat pile by the door, ready to go at a moment's notice.

Erica gets him a muffin like she did yesterday, blueberry, his favorite. She also has a to-go cup of coffee for him and her too, and she hands them to him with a strained smile. He wants to ask what's going on, but he probably doesn't actually want to know, so he just smiles back and eats the muffin and drinks the coffee and hopes for the best.

"We're on tumblr," Erica announces, scrolling on her phone. She turns the screen towards him, and they are on one of the cosplay blogs that Erica follows. It's a picture of the two of them and Stiles is laughing, the part of his face that wasn't covered contorted with it. Erica's leaning in and kissing his cheek. He remembers that after that Erica had thrown her head back and laughed.

"We look good," he says, and Erica nods, looking towards the picture with a fond look on her face before making her screen go black and putting her phone in her pocket.

.

The farther they get from Anaheim the more Erica seems to fold in on herself, staring out the window and at her phone. Looking at anything but him, it seems like.

Stiles doesn't want to be paranoid, doesn't want to worry about a monster in the closet that isn't really there, a figment of his imagination. It could be anything, really. Erica could be feeling tired; they had a really long day with an athletic end to it before they went to bed. Or maybe she's not feeling well, maybe she's sore after the first time in a way that guys aren't.

There's also the possibility that the sex was so appalling and atrocious that Erica just wants nothing more to do with him, that she's just thinking of a way that she can break up with him once she's not dependent on him for transportation.

The last thought puts a weird weight in the pit of his stomach and a lump in his throat, not one made up so much of tears as much as bad feelings.

He tries not to think about the last option, but it chases his train of thought, occasionally catching up and consuming it before he eventually gets free. He looks at Erica a few times, her hair pulled back and her face free of make-up, but she never notices him looking at her.

Stiles don't want to think about it, so he turns his music up and hopes that it'll drown out any doubts he has. It doesn't, but at least he tries.

Erica finally looks at him when they pass the 'Welcome to Beacon Hills' sign. She smiles, and the knot in the base of his stomach loosens some. "This was really fun," she says and he does not read too much into that. "I had a good time."

"Yeah, me too. We'll have to do this again eventually."

She nods. "Definitely."

They don't talk the whole rest of the way to her house, and when he finally stops the jeep they sit in an awkward silence for a heartbeat, but before Erica gets out Stiles decides to take the plunge. "Hey," he says. "Did I do something wrong?"

Erica's eyebrows furrow. "Why would you think that _you_ did something wrong?"

"I don't know, maybe because you're acting really weird?"

She just looks at him before saying, "I don't know what you're talking about." She opens the door and hops out. She reaches into the backseat and grabs her things and slams the door, walking to her front door before Stiles can get out and try to help or anything. She waves, and Stiles takes that as his cue to go.

.

Monday morning Erica isn't waiting at her locker for him, the way that she'd been waiting every morning since they'd officially started dating. Stiles ignores the feeling at the pit of his stomach, instead just walking to his own first period.

When he sees Scott, though, he can't help but ask, "The first time that you and Allison had sex, was she really weird after it?"

Stiles isn't exactly one hundred percent sure that Scott and Allison have had sex yet, but he's about ninety-two percent sure that if they haven't yet then they've gotten really close. Scott's told him about a few things, but nothing in detail, mostly because Stiles just really doesn't want to hear about it. It'd be like hearing about Snow White and her Prince Charming having sex and, well, there's a reason that Disney movies stop after the wedding.

"Whoa, dude, did you and Erica _have sex_?" Scott asks, lowering his voice at the last two words so that no one looks at them. Stiles doesn't know how impressed he should be by this lack of subtly.

"Yes," Stiles admits. He'd jacked off to the memory before bed last night. "And it was pretty bad and now she's acting really weird, and she wasn't waiting at her locker this morning and now I don't know what's going on."

Scott looks distinctly uncomfortable, because while they're best friends and tell each other everything, this is the most they've talked about _feelings_ in public. But, he's still a best bro, so he puts his hand on Stiles's shoulder and squeezes. "Have you tried...talking to her? I mean I know it sucks but girls like it when you talk about this stuff and I mean, she hasn't broken up with you or anything yet." He seems to realize that was the wrong thing to say when Stiles opens his mouth, so he continues quickly, "Not that Erica is going to break up with you! Because she wouldn't do that! She totally likes you."

"I hope you're right," Stiles says, and he counts down the minutes to history class.

But, just as his luck would have it, Johnson doesn't let them work on their projects, so there's no chance for him and Erica to talk. He tries to get her attention a few times, but eventually Johnson says, "Mr. Stilinski, is there a problem?"

Stiles slides down further into his seat. "No," he answers, and Erica looks at him. When she realizes that he's looking back she goes back down to the notes in her spiral, letting her hair fall over her face.

It's like Erica has actually become Catwoman by the time lunch rolls around, because not only does she dissipate after history class like smoke, she's nowhere to be found during lunch either. Stiles walks over to Isaac, who's eating alone today, and slams his tray down in front of him.

Isaac looks up and raises an eyebrow before going back to his tater tots. "If you want to know where Erica is," he says before Stiles can even ask, "I'm not supposed to tell you that." He looks up to look at Stiles again. "But, I can give you a hint, because this whole thing is stupid."

"So do you know what's up with her?" Stiles asks hopefully. This would help so much, if Isaac would just tell him.

But Isaac just shakes his head. "You need to ask her about that, I'm not getting into the middle of this stupid crap," he says. "She's still at the school, though. She's in the room with the books in it. Think you can figure that out?"

Stiles ignores Isaac, who has been mostly lukewarm towards him ever since he and Erica started dating, and starts his walk to the library. Isaac has quit telling him to leave Erica alone, but he still hasn't opened up to Stiles completely. He's pretty sure that the only reason that he's not outright rude is because of Erica, so there's that at least. Things might devolve if this thing with him and Erica don't fix, though, and that's a particularly depressing thought.

Sure enough Erica's in the library, behind the mythology book shelves, and she's studying with her binder open, eating a sandwich.

"Erica," he says, and he's thankful that the librarian seems to have left for lunch as well.

Erica's just bitten into her sandwich, and her eyes widen when she sees him standing there. She swallows and grabs her bag. "Hey, I've got to go do a thing-"

"No, sit down," Stiles tells her, beyond exasperated by this whole thing. He's starting to get angry at this point because all of this is so stupid, pointless, just drama for no reason at all. "What is your _problem_? And don't tell me that you don't know what I'm talking about because you literally are eating alone in the library to get away from me."

For a moment Erica seems to hesitate, and he can see all of the options crossing her mind, before she finally floats back into the chair and sets her sandwich down. She's looking at the sandwich instead of him, when she finally starts to talk. "I just..." Erica takes a deep breath, and exhales, before she finally looks at him square in the face. "If you break up with me, I don't want it to be because the sex was so bad, you know? Or because we had sex and then that was it, you know? So I figured if I stopped talking to you"

"When did I ever act like I was going to break up with you? Especially after-" the librarian walks in then, and Stiles has to lower his voice, "what happened in the hotel? Seriously, Erica?"

"I don't know," she admits finally. "I just sort of freaked, okay."

Stiles doesn't understand why she can't see that he's not someone who's going to brush her off because she has epilepsy or isn't Lydia Martin or anything else that she thinks about herself. He doesn't know how to tell her that either, can't really put it into words and have it make sense. So instead he says, "Look, I'm not an asshole. Don't think that I'm going to break up with you about something that stupid, okay? Because that wasn't cool and it freaked me out too—I was thinking that you were trying to break up with me. As for the other thing, well, you know what they say. Practice makes perfect, and we've got nothing but time."

There's a ghost of a smile playing at Erica's mouth before she leans over and kisses him right on the mouth. Stiles can't react, can't do much more than push his lips slightly into Erica's, before the librarian clears her throat and gives them both a pointed glare.

"Sorry," Erica tells her, bright red and unapologetic. There's heat in Stiles's face as well, but somehow he feels infinitely better about everything.

.

Stiles actually _can_ dance, twerking aside. He's been to a few dances, opting mostly to hang out with the other guys and eat whatever they've had on the tables and admiring Lydia from afar. It's not a particularly good way to hone dancing skills, but he's never stepped on any toes (unlike Scott) and he counts that as a point in his favor.

Last year he and Scott had skipped the winter formal, opting instead to play video games and eat pizza and stay up all night, but this year they have girlfriends and are practically expected to go. It feels like pressure, but at the same time it's not.

Scott agonizes for days about how to ask Allison, even if he does it silently. Stiles just shrugs and goes, "I don't know, dude, whatever you think Allison would like," so much that he eventually turns to his mom for advice and leaves Stiles alone.

As for asking Erica, well, that's easy enough. They go see a movie and when he goes to drop her off, instead of leaning in for a kiss Stiles asks, "Hey, do you want to go to Winter Formal with me?"

"No, I think I'm going to go with Isaac instead, sorry."

"Isn't it supposed to be the other way around? The best friend falls in love with the boyfriend instead of the best friends getting together?"

"So do you want to go with Isaac instead?" Erica asks. "Danny would be offended."

"Whatever, Danny doesn't even like me," Stiles says, grinning.

"Then I guess I'd better say yes, especially if you're not going to get Danny."

"Great," Stiles says. Really, he's got it easy.

.

Even though it's sort of depressing, Stiles still has a nice sports coat and black pants left over from the last string of funerals that he had attended, and he drags them out from the back of his closet He uses a lint roller to get off all the dirt and who knows what made its way onto his best clothes.

Stiles wants to look good for Erica. He's sure that she wouldn't care if he went naked, but he still wants to look pretty nice. He had something to tell her, and he wanted to tell her wearing something fancy, since the Winter Formal was, well, formal.

He isn't sure how to bring the topic up with his dad, but when the Sheriff knocked on the door and looked in he knew this was it.

"Everything going all right, son?" he asks, sticking his head in.

"Yeah," Stiles says. Erica is going to text him when she was ready so he could go pick her up, but so far there was radio silence. "So. How did you know when you loved mom? How were you sure?" This was a bit of a segue, but if he didn't just straight up ask, Stiles knows that he's not going to ask at all.

The Sheriff's eyebrows raise, and he suddenly looks years older like he always did when mom was brought up, but he still went to sit on the edge of Stiles's bed with him. "Is this about Erica?" he asks, and when Stiles nods he continues. "Well, for me it was easy. We'd known each other for a while, and I thought she was beautiful, but it wasn't romantic for a long time. But one day, I just looked at her and I knew that she was the one for me, and that as long as she was up and kicking that I wasn't going to be happy with anyone else."

He shrugs. "Falling in love doesn't have to be this big, complicated thing. Sometimes, you just do it and you don't realize that it's happening until you're already in the thick of it."

"Thanks, Dad," Stiles says, and he's surprised to find that he means it. Generally his mom is a topic that they both avoid as much as they can, but this talk doesn't hurt as much as usual. Doesn't have the same underlying level of pain.

Before he can continue this conversation, Erica finally texts him. "That's my cue to go, Dad," he says. "But...thanks for all the help."

"Happy to," his dad replies.

And, well, this is still less awkward than the whole condom thing, which is a win and a half.

.

Erica's dad is waiting for him when Stiles gets to the Reyes house. "Erica wants to make an entrance," he informs Stiles, rolling his eyes. Stiles nods and wonders silently if he can tell that Stiles took his daughter's virginity.

Is he really looking at Stiles funny, or is that just his imagination? He can't be sure, so Stiles just awkwardly stares at his shiny black shoes and hopes for the best. Think positive thoughts, and maybe he won't get attacked by someone who has a father's righteous fury on his side.

"Are you guys ready?" Erica calls from down the hall, and her dad rolls his eyes again.

"Oh Lord," he mutters, but shouts for her to hear, "Yes, please, come pull out all the razzle dazzle on us."

"Shut up, Dad, I can hear you rolling your eyes," Erica says, but she walks out anyway and Stiles feels his jaw hit the floor.

Her dress is red and formfitting, with cleavage everywhere, but everything else she's wearing is black. Her hair is down and curly, like the way she wore it at Wondercon, and her lipstick matches her dress. "What do you think?" Erica asks.

"It's a little...much, but you look great," her dad tells her before Stiles can respond. "Your boyfriend's going to have to mop up his drool when he gets back, though."

"You're beautiful," Stiles finally manages to croak out, and Erica looks pleased.

"You're sweet," she tells him. "And look pretty snazzy too. Definitely good enough to be my date, huh, Dad?"

"You two get out of here," Mr. Reyes says, opening the door for them, and Erica blows him a kiss.

She seems happy tonight, happy and vibrant and excited, and she positively beams whenever Stiles opens the door for her. "Thank you, good sir," she giggles, and wraps her fingers around his. She starts to pull him towards the lights, where everyone else is headed.

He squeezes her hand before he begins. "Erica, before we go in there I have to tell you something."

This stops Erica in her tracks, and she furrows his eyebrows at him. "What's up? You look like you're about to puke."

He feels like it too, could practically feel the bile rising up in his throat, but he pushed it down. If he doesn't say it now he isn't going to say it at all. "I love you," he says finally.

Erica freezes again, but before she can even open her mouth Stiles goes, "You don't have to say it back. Oh God, just don't say it back if you don't mean it, because that would suck and I just don't want to go there, but I just wanted to say that before we went to the dance or whatever. So yeah, there's that, I guess we can just-"

But whatever Stiles is going to say—oh God what isn't he saying—gets gut off when Erica kisses him in the middle of the parking lot. Stiles hears someone walking by wolf whistle, but he ignores them, instead focusing on the press of Erica's lips on his. It's better that way anyway.

"I love you too," she says finally, pulling away from him. Her eyes look suspiciously wet, but she doesn't wipe at them or anything. "I think I have...for a while now."

"Well, now that that's settled," Stiles says, offering his arm. "You ready for this?"

"Born ready," Erica says, and they walk in together.


End file.
